


Martín, Don't

by givebackmylifecas



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26398522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givebackmylifecas/pseuds/givebackmylifecas
Summary: Tatiana knows Martín is in love with Andrés, she’s not blind, she knew that from the minute Andrés introduced him to her. What troubles her is Andrés. She’s been watching him and more importantly she’s been watching him watching Martín.How Andrés eyes linger when he walks past, how they sit too close together, how they touch too easily, too closely. How Martín and the plan they came up with is all Andrés talks about, even when Sergio tries to convince them that it’s pointless.
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote, Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Tatiana
Comments: 21
Kudos: 118





	Martín, Don't

**Author's Note:**

> sort of kind of based on the song 'natalie don't' by raye - this was meant to be fun and ended up getting more intense than i planned lol
> 
> no tws apply (but feel free to tell me if you think something needs tagged)

_Why you staring at him, I can see_   
_When you know he belongs to me_   
_You know I miss him at sunrise_   
_Behind his eyes, he is thinking of you_

Tatiana is a lucky woman, she knows this. She was blessed with good looks and enough talent to make it as a concert pianist. She is also lucky enough to have successfully pulled off some very tricky heists – and met the man of her dreams while she’s at it.

Andrés is exactly the kind of man she’d always envisioned herself with. He’s smart, cultured, daring, and handsome. Every time he kisses her it’s like she’s falling for him all over again. When he proposed, she had no compunctions about saying yes - it was a whirlwind romance and a proposal seemed fitting. She was happy on her wedding day, surrounded by the monks and Andrés’ brother and friends.

Above all, though, Tatiana is a practical woman, which is why she’s currently on her way through the monastery, searching for Andrés and his ‘best friend’. She finds Andrés in the garden, stretched out on one of the sun-loungers. His eyes are shut against the sun and he’s dressed only in a robe that’s open to reveal his underwear.

“Andrés,” she says, when she reaches his side. “We need to talk.”

He opens his eyes, holding up his hand to shade them. “Tatiana, mi amor. What do you want to talk about?”

She crosses her arms with a scowl. “Really? You have no idea?”

“Not really, no.” Andrés looks blissfully unconcerned and it only upsets her more.

“Andrés,” she says slowly. “You didn’t come home yesterday. You were gone for over twenty-four hours.”

Andrés shrugs. “I was out with Martín.”

“All night?”

“Yes.”

Tatiana glares at him and he sighs, sitting up and patting the space next to him until she sits down next to him. He wraps an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

“Andrés we’re married, you can’t just disappear without telling me,” she insists.

Andrés shakes his head. “I understand, but I have obligations outside our marriage.”

“To what? Your plan? To Martín?” Tatiana demands, still annoyed by how unbothered he seems.

“Among other things,” Andrés allows. He eyes her shrewdly. “What are you really annoyed about? That I was gone, or that I was gone with Martín?”

Tatiana scoffs. “Please, Sergio told me about your third ex-wife, I’m not a homophobe. This is about you disappearing without a word.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Andrés says, suddenly smiling brightly. “Then why don’t we go to lunch? Martín told me about this place that does the most amazing gnocchi!”

“You’re unbelievable,” she says, getting to her feet. “I’m going out for the day, I’ll see you later Andrés.”

He calls after her, but doesn’t follow and she leaves the monastery in a cloud of dust.

When she returns to the monastery that evening, there’s a huge bouquet of lilies and apologetic Andrés waiting for her. She rolls her eyes, lets him kiss her and tries to put the issue out of her mind.

* * *

Except that a week later, she’s back where she started, extremely upset and searching the monastery. Because she’s been watching her husband and his best friend, and she’s too smart to not be concerned.

She knows Martín is in love with Andrés, she’s not blind, she knew that from the minute Andrés introduced him. What troubles her is Andrés. She’s been watching him and more importantly she’s been watching him watching Martín.

How Andrés eyes linger when he walks past, how they sit too close together, how they touch too easily, too closely. How Martín and the plan they came up with is all Andrés talks about, even when Sergio tries to convince them that it’s pointless.

She finds Andrés in the chapel, lounging on the sofa, a glass of wine in his hands.

“Tatiana, I was wondering where you were,” he says, smiling widely.

She arches an eyebrow. “Were you really?” she asks a little too sharply.

She regrets her tone immediately, but it hardly matters, Andrés is looking past her, completely distracted. She turns and sees Martín strutting in, wearing eye-wateringly tight jeans and an arrogant smile.

“Tatiana, how have you been?” he asks, face open and friendly, even though she can see the shade of pain in his eyes that always seems present since the wedding.

She forces herself to smile back. “I’m fine, thank you, Martín. I was actually looking for you both.”

“Really?” he asks, taking a seat on the chair opposite Andrés.

“Yes, I feel like I haven’t seen my husband – or you – in a while,” Tatiana says, sitting next to her husband.

“Look at my angel, Martín,” Andrés says. “I fear I’ve been neglecting her.”

Martín leans back in his chair, reaching for the wine glass resting on Andrés desk. “How terrible of you. I’m sorry, Tatiana, we got wrapped up in our planning.”

“No problem,” she grits out.

Andrés drains his glass. “Mi amor, would you like some wine? Martín, would you get us another bottle?”

Tatiana watches as Martín shrugs, but immediately does as he’s asked, crossing the room and bending over to open the cabinet Andrés keeps his wine in. It absolutely doesn’t escape her notice that Andrés tracks Martín’s every move until he returns, a bottle of wine and a fresh glass in his hands.

“Thank you,” Tatiana says graciously when Martín hands her the glass and then fills it, before topping off Andrés’ glass too.

She stays silent as the two men fall into easy conversation. Martín never once takes his eyes off Andrés and by the end of the evening she knows she’s going to have to do something - although it would be a hell of a lot easier, if Andrés were actually aware of what he’s doing.

* * *

Tatiana doesn’t find a way to get Martín alone for another week. He and Andrés are so entangled and wrapped up each other that they’re rarely apart until Andrés crawls into bed with her at night – and even then she can see he isn’t fully focussed on her, mind either on the unreachable gold in the Bank of Spain, or the man who’s getting it for him. But Sergio calls and wants to go over plans with Andrés that involve a daytrip and he has never been known to deny his little brother anything.

She knows Martín will be working on his ridiculously incomprehensible equations all day, so that afternoon she makes them both coffee and brings it to the chapel where he’s scowling at a blackboard like it’s personally wronged him.

“Tatiana,” he says, smiling when he sees her. “What can I do for you?”

She holds out one of the cups and he takes it gratefully. “I thought you could do with a break.”

“You’re too kind,” Martín says, taking a long sip of the hot drink.

“Yeah,” she says. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

He narrows his eyes suspiciously, but gestures for her to take a seat at the table, sitting opposite her, coffee still in hand. “Alright. About what?”

“About Andrés,” she says and his expression darkens.

“Andrés,” he says slowly. “Shouldn’t you be talking to your husband, not about him?”

Tatiana nods, sipping at her own coffee before speaking. “I would, if this were just about him. But it’s about you too.”

Martín’s face has taken on a look of suspicion that almost seems dangerous and despite her own hurt, she cautions herself to tread carefully.

“I know you’ve known each other for a long time and that you care for him,” she starts, keeping her voice soft, but Martín cuts her off.

“I think I know where this is going, Tatiana, I’ve already been through this with one of Andrés’ other wives – although I have to admit, I never took you for the bigoted type.”

She laughs. “You two really think exactly the same way, don’t you? No, Martín this isn’t about that. I don’t have an issue with you being gay.”

“Oh,” he says, relaxing somewhat. “Then what do you have an issue with?”

“Look, I know you love him,” Tatiana sighs, trying to stay calm even as Martín’s hands curl into fists. “But so do I. I love him, Martín, and I love being married to him.”

Martín’s mouth twists into a bitter smirk. “Great, congratulations. I was at the wedding, you know, I’m aware of all of this.”

“Are you? Because I’ve been watching the two of you and I don’t think you’re aware of a lot of things.”

“Like what?” Martín asks, jaw set. “He’s my… he’s my best friend, I know him better than I know myself. What do you think I’m missing?”

His face is flushed, eyes dark as they flick between her face and the table. His hands curl and uncurl restlessly and Tatiana can see the tension radiating off him in waves.

“So you haven’t seen the way he stares at you? The way his eyes literally follow you around the room? The way you’re all he talks about – you and that plan?” she demands.

He shakes his head. “What do you want from me? I’ve been his friend for years, for years! Don’t you think if he returned a fraction of what I felt for him, I would know?”

Tatiana waits, let him take a couple of breaths before she speaks. “Would you?”

“Yes,” he hisses. “I would fucking know. Is that all?”

“No,” she says firmly, steeling herself. “I need you to move on.”

“Move on?” he repeats slowly.

She nods. “Yes. You love him, I know that, and I know you want what’s best for him. So I’m asking you to not try and take him from me. Because… because I don’t know that he’d choose me if you asked. So I need you to promise me that you won’t.”

She sniffs, a little embarrassed by the tears in her eyes and when she looks up, she’s shocked to see Martín’s eyes are damp too.

“I can’t,” he says and his voice is barely more than a whisper.

“You can’t, what?” Tatiana grits out.

Martín looks up at her and his eyes are full of regret. “I can’t promise that. He’s everything and I can’t not try. I can’t.”

“Why?” she cries, getting to her feet. “Why not?”

“I love him,” Martín says and it sounds like it costs him everything to admit it.

They stare at each other, a twisted sort of stand-off, neither of them able to speak until there are footsteps coming towards them and Tatiana turns to see Andrés enter the room.

“You’re back early,” she says and he nods, eyes darting between her and Martín.

“Yes, Sergio had a last minute appointment,” Andrés says slowly. “What’s going on? Martín, are you okay?”

“Why don’t you ask your wife that?” she hears Martín spit and then he’s storming past both of them, giving Andrés an unnaturally wide berth.

Tatiana almost wants to scream as she watches Andrés watch Martín leave.

“Tatiana,” Andrés says, a frown creasing his handsome face. “What’s going on?”

“I had to,” she says bitterly.

Andrés’ eyes flash dangerously. “You had to what?”

She sighs, shaking her head and he steps closer.

“What did you have to do, Tatiana?”

“I had to ask him, alright? I had to ask him to not try and take you away from me!” she yells. “Because I knew you had no idea what was going on and I was selfish enough to ask him to let me have you.”

“Let you have me?” Andrés repeats slowly, confusion written across his face. “Why would you feel the need to do that? I know Martín, I know how he feels about me – and he knows how I feel about you.”

“And how do you feel about him, Andrés?” she demands and he rolls his eyes. “No, don’t do that. I’m not stupid, or delusional, or insane, or whatever you’re about to say. Like it or not, I know you Andrés. And I know that you care about him, more than you’ll admit.”

Andrés sighs. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that if I made you choose right now, between him and I, you would choose him and it’s not just because you’re best friends. So I asked Martín, I asked him to stop hanging around you, stop staring at you, because I don’t want to lose you.”

There’s a moment where silence stretches between them and Tatiana knows that their marriage, their relationship, depends on what Andrés says next.

“What did he say?” Andrés asks and Tatiana bites her lip so as not to cry. “When you asked him, what did he say?”

She swallows, hard. “That’s what you want to know? Of course, it is. Fine, he said no. He said I couldn’t ask him to do that, because he loves you.”

Andrés nods, but doesn’t say anything.

“Is that it?” she asks. “You’re not going to say anything?”

“Why should I?” he retorts with a shrug. “You’ve not told me anything I don’t already know. Do you think I was oblivious to his feelings?”

Tatiana shakes her head. “No, I don’t think that. But here’s something you don’t know: we’re done. I thought if I asked him not to make you choose, I wouldn’t lose you – but I see now that I never really had you.”

Andrés clenches his jaw, but he doesn’t protest, doesn’t argue. Instead he nods, and turns away from her. Tatiana refuses to let him see her break and keeps her head held high and tears unshed until she’s packed her things and is driving away from the monastery.

* * *

Martín is drunk when Andrés finds him. He’s sprawled on his bed next to an open suitcase. It’s haphazardly filled with clothes and one of his feet is resting on one half. When Andrés enters the room without knocking, he makes a half-hearted effort to get up, but ends up flopping backwards onto the bed again.

“Don’t worry, I’m going,” Martín grumbles, his words slurring together.

Andrés sighs, sitting on the bed beside him. “Why?”

Martín takes another swig from the liquor bottle clutched in his hand. “Please, Andrés, I’m not an idiot - I don’t think Tatiana still wants me around.”

“Well, Tatiana isn’t here anymore,” Andrés says.

“Why?”

“Because she said she didn’t want to lose me, but then said she never had me to begin with.”

Martín scoffs. “She married you, didn’t she?”

He sits up, swaying a little next to Andrés. His eyes aren’t as unfocussed as Andrés expects when they study his face.

“She did,” Andrés agrees. “But maybe we shouldn’t have married.”

Martín frowns, confused. “Why?”

“Because maybe she was right and I wasn’t hers to lose.”

“What are you talking about?”

Martín looks scared as he waits for Andrés to speak. “I’m talking about the fact that we’ve been going around in circles for years, Martín. And it needs to stop.”

“I already told you, I’m leaving,” Martín says, shuffling away from Andrés.

“And I already told you, that I don’t want you to,” Andrés replies, almost smiling as he watches Martín try to process their conversation.

“If you’re saying what I think you’re saying,” Martín says suspiciously, hesitantly. “Then why wait until now?”

Andrés shakes his head. “Because I really like women… but I also like you.”

A sly smile spreads on Martín’s face as he moves back towards Andrés. “I see, you’re a coward.”

“Maybe I am,” Andrés says evenly. “But I’m here now.”

Martín nods. “Yeah, because your wife had the balls to confront both of us about this.”

“I think, after all that’s happened, it’s safe to say she’s no longer my wife,” Andrés says and there’s just a hint of a smile on his lips.

“And now?” Martín asks and to his credit, Andrés doesn’t think anyone else would hear the note of fear in his voice.

“And now,” Andrés starts, but doesn’t finish his sentence.

Instead he slides one hand into Martín’s hair and yanks him forward into a kiss. Martín responds immediately, as if he’s been waiting for it, and maybe he has. But Andrés can no longer bring himself to care how long either of them have been dancing around this. His entire world has been narrowed down to Martín’s hands on his waist, Martín’s lips against his, Martín’s harsh breathing interspersed with soft whimpers.

Andrés pushes forward until Martín is flat on his back and he’s lying mostly on top of him, still hopelessly entangled in one another.

“Andrés,” Martín says quietly when he pulls away. There’s only inches between them and Andrés can almost feel the words as if they’re his own.

“Yes, Martín?”

“Don’t you dare get married again,” Martín growls and Andrés laughs until he’s kissed quiet.

* * *

Tatiana shakes her head as Andrés and Martín’s faces flash across the TV screen again. The newscaster is hailing them as the masterminds of the ‘heist of the century’, detailing how the police had bungled the case and the robbers had been able to escape the mint with millions of euros – and how in the weeks since their escape, there have been no new leads.

The doorbell rings and Tatiana shifts out from under her husband’s arm to answer it. When she opens the front door, there’s no one there. There’s a package addressed to her in familiar handwriting on the step though.

She picks it up and takes it inside, opening it in the front hallway, instead of taking it through to the living room. There’s wads of twenty euro notes stuffed inside the box and right on top of it, a note that makes her smile.

_Tatiana,_

_Thank you for asking._

_– M. d. F._

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked this incredibly ooc version of andrés! 
> 
> if you did (or if you really didn't) feel free to comment and scream at me on tumblr ([@hefellfordean](https://hefellfordean.tumblr.com)) or twitter ([@angstypalermo](https://twitter.com/angstypalermo)) if you like


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